


Good Friends Once Assumed Enemies

by ideliagirl



Series: Things you'd find north of the wall [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, F/M, Prequel, author doesn't know about hockey, author doesn't know about repairing cars, characters becoming friends, foster parents/children, mentions of medical malpractice, mentions of minor character death, teenagers misunderstanding other teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 05:49:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11201736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ideliagirl/pseuds/ideliagirl
Summary: Okay, maybe enemies is too strong a word.But Jon Snow had never given Sansa Stark much thought.Sansa had never given Jon much, either.Life has a way of changing things.Or: Scenes From How Jon and Sansa Became FriendsPrequel to my series: Things you'd find north of the wallYou don't have to have read the series to understand the story, but it'd help with some inside details.





	Good Friends Once Assumed Enemies

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about cars or hockey, so if it seems like whoever wrote this knows nothing about cars or hockey-- that's why.
> 
> You don't have to have read the other works in this series, but it'd probably help you understand some foreshadowing better. Also, this author would just love you to read the rest of the series. :)

Jon?”

“Yeah?” Jon answered into the dark of his bedroom and into his phone that had woken him. “Who’s this?”

“It’s Sansa.”

“Sansa?” Jon sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. “Is Robb okay?”

“Yeah. Robb’s at hockey camp.” Her voiced sounded tinny and drawn on the other end.

“I know he is, that’s why I asked.” Jon replied in a slight huff. “Sansa, it’s the middle of the night. Why are you calling me?”

She took a while to answer. “I did something stupid.”

That response drew his attention and he adjusted the blanket over him nervously. “It’s not like you to do something stupid.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

“Okay,” he started worriedly. “what’d you do?”

“I took Robb’s car out.” And Jon could practically _hear_ her lip tremble.

Jon sighed deeply. “Sansa, you’re only fourteen.”

“I’m aware.”

“And you don’t have a license.”

Her voice lowered. “That comes with being only fourteen.”

“Yeah, that _is_ stupid. But I don’t know that it warrants you calling me at—“ Jon looked at his clock. “2:37am. Just bring it back and he’ll never…………wait, what happened to Robb’s car?”

Sansa began to cry. “I wrecked it.”

“The car Robb bought with all the money he’s saved the last two years and that he and I worked on day and night all summer to fix up?”

She cried a little harder. “Yeah.”

Jon swung his legs onto the floor and turned on his lamp. “What the hell got into you?”

“Wine coolers.”

“Fuck, Sansa!” His hand cupped his forehead.

“I was only two houses down spending the night at Jeyne Poole’s and I only had one!” She defended, her voice rising sharply. “But I never drank before and it made me much stupider, much quicker than I ever thought. And I knew where Robb kept his keys and that the car was shut away in the side garage that Mom and Dad wouldn’t hear open.” She ended with a murmur. “I just thought it would be fun.”

“Do you think it’s fun now?” He scolded, a bit hypocritically as he was only two years older.

“I thought I could do it!” She replied, sounding like she had gravel in her throat. “But apparently driving Grandpa Hoster’s old tractor is not the same thing.”

“Who would’ve guessed?!” He yelled sarcastically.

“Are you honestly trying to make me feel worse? Because I don’t think you’ll be able to.”

“Alright, alright. How wrecked is the car? Can you still drive it?” Jon questioned before chuckling lowly. “I mean, not that I want you to with no driver’s license and trashed on _one_ wine cooler.”

“Are you laughing at me?” She asked meekly, a tremor in her voice.

“No, no, Sansa. I’m sorry, I’m just sleepy and it’s just the situation.” He soothed, schooling his tone. “ _Can_ you still drive it?”

“No. I mean, I think I could if there wasn’t something jamming up the front passenger tire. But I can’t figure out what it is or how to dislodge it.” There was a long pause. “Jon, the front passenger side is pretty banged up.”

“Okay then, I mean…..” He scrubbed a hand through his curls. “I’m sorry, Sansa, but it seems like it’s time to call your parents.”

“No, please!” Sansa implored. “Jon, I’ve never really gotten in trouble before and ‘ _drunk, stealing and wrecking my brother’s car all without a license’………_ seems like a pretty over-the-top way to make my debut.”

“So,” he began, already getting out of bed to get dressed. “I gather you want me to come then?”

“I know it’s a big thing to ask.” She said by way of an apology.

“You’re right, it is.” He put on his shoes. “But I’m on my way.”

“Cassel Road, close to the old weirwood tree.”

“I know where that is.” He confirmed, turning off his lamp. “I should be there in ten minutes.”

She sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

“Sansa?” He left his room, but stopped short of pulling his door closed. “I feel like a jerk for not asking this already, but you’re okay? You’re not hurt?”

“No, Jon.” She told him softly. “I’m not hurt.”

 

 

“So, how bad is it?” She pulled his coat tighter around her, it’s size swallowing her frame and making her seem even more scared.

“Well, I’ve pulled the fender away from the tire, so it’s at least drivable again.” He told her as they stood on the side of the road in the freezing cold with the lights of his car shining onto Robb’s. “And the damage is all cosmetic, so it’s not _that_ bad.” He put his tools back in his trunk and slammed it shut. “But I gotta say, even with as dense as Robb is, I’m pretty sure he’ll notice it.”

“Does he have to?” She asked meekly.

He furrowed his brow in confusion. “Meaning?”

She looked back up at him with sheepish eyes. “Don’t you work part-time in a garage?”

“Hold on, Sansa.” He held up his hands.

“It’s only Saturday morning before dawn, Robb doesn’t get back from camp until late Sunday night!” She begged, her hands clasped together. “You said it’d be all cosmetic body work.”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure you can make that happen.”

“I have a 4.8 grade point average.” She crossed her arms. “I can make anything happen if I’m determined enough.”

He walked to his car and opened the passenger door, waving for her to get in. “Yeah, well, not by yourself.”

“I want you to help me.” She confirmed with a look of determination and didn’t move. “But yes, I’ll find a way to do it myself if I have to.”

He lowered his head and lightly kicked a piece of gravel. “It really means that much that you not get in trouble?”

“Robb will kill me if he finds out I took his car and wrecked it.” She walked toward him, pleading. “And Mom and Dad will kill me if they find out their fourteen-year-old drove without a license while tipsy on wine coolers.”

“Yeah, I’d say both are pretty imminent.” He smirked, then looked to the sky in exasperation. “Fuck. Alright, I’ll help.”

“Really?” She seemed surprised. “I mean, thank you, Jon. I know you and I have never really been close.”

“No, we haven’t.” He agreed. “But I love your family, and you’re a member of your family.” He chuckled, gesturing to the door he was still holding open. “Not to mention, I think it would probably upset your brother and your parents if they had to murder you.”

“Maybe just a little bit.” She smiled.

“So anything I can do to keep that from happening……..I’ll do it.”

“Again, thank you.” She repeated, getting in.

“Better clear your social calendar,” he told her, shutting the door and walking around. “because if it’s gonna get done by the time Robb gets home, you’ll have to help me.” He opened his door and slid in behind the wheel. “Since it’s a weekend, nobody’ll be at the garage, I’ll clear it with Mr. Rayder.”

“Me? Working at the garage?” She quirked a brow with uncertainty. “Would I even know what to do?”

“I’ll show you.”

“What about if we need to replace something?” She asked nervously. “I don’t have much of my own money.”

“Neither did Robb,” he assured her, starting the engine. “but with the two of us working, the car still turned out pretty good.”

She bit her lip and looked to the folded hands in her lap. “Until I wrecked it.”

“We’ll use scrap parts and you and I will be the labor, so it’ll be fine money-wise.”

“And you won’t tell Robb?”

They came upon a stoplight. “No. I’ll get Tormund to come out with me in the morning and we’ll get it to the garage.” He lingered at the light even once it turned green and cast his eyes over to her. “But in exchange for my silence, I want something from you that you can’t tell Robb about either.”

“Excuse me?” She nearly screamed. “After all that altruistic ‘ _I love your family’_ bullshit you just told me back there?!” She huffed, clearly offended. “I’m only fourteen and even if I was older, I still wouldn’t do that just so you wouldn’t tell Robb I wrecked his car. And what kind of creep are you to even—“

“What?” Jon made a face, realizing what she thought. “Gods no, Sansa. That’s not what I meant.” He scoffed as he started driving again. “Fuck, talk about Robb murdering somebody.”

“Then what?” She asked softly, apologetic.

“I need, um, I need your help.” He let out a deep breath, steeling himself. “Okay, you’re a huge nerd.”

She shook her head incredulously. “That’s not really a good way to start if you’re asking someone for help.”

“I mean that you’re really smart.” He drummed his thumbs against the steering wheel. “You’re fourteen and you were put in AP trigonometry already.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m failing algebra.” Jon sighed. “I don’t know what it is. I’ve got good grades in all my other classes. But algebra? I just can’t seem to grasp it.”

She nodded in understanding. “Math can be hard for people, even the smartest of people.”

“I’ll help you fix the car and keep my mouth shut to Robb,” he nodded back. “if you help me get my grade up.”

“Tutor you?” She was unsure, but desperate. “Okay, I guess. Though, most of the time if someone has trouble in math they only overcome it with lots of practice.”

“My foster father said he’d take away my car _and_ make me quit the garage to focus on school if I didn’t get my grade up.” He winced at her in self-deprecation. “I _really_ don’t want either of those things to happen, so I’m willing to put in the time.”

 

 

 “Mance seems like a nice guy.” Sansa told Jon while holding up a work-light so he could see as he put the hammered-out and repainted section of the fender back on the car. “At least it’s nice that he’s letting us use the garage even though I’m not actually paying him.”

“Well, it was my—or rather, our—labor and we scrounged the parts from the scrapyard instead of inventory.” He gestured for her to hold the light a little closer. “I told him the only thing we’d really be using were the tools and they were already here. And with us having done the work when nobody else was here…… it really didn’t put him out.” He shrugged, turning on the drill. “But yeah, he’s an okay guy.”

“And how’s Davos?” Sansa yelled over the din.

The drill immediately ceased and Jon’s eyes widened beneath his goggles, shocked at hearing his foster father’s name come out of Sansa’s mouth. “I didn’t think you knew his name.”

She nodded. “I do.”

“Um, he’s good.”

“Robb really likes him.” Sansa said simply, handing him a bolt. “Dad does too—says he’s a good influence on you.” She laughed kindly. “But then he’s always quick to add that you didn’t need much good-influencing to begin with.”

Jon laughed too. “Yeah, Davos has been good. He was a sailor stationed around Dragonstone before he came to Winterfell. And he’s the one that got me thinking about joining the service.”

“Military?” Sansa’s eyebrows rose.

“Yeah, maybe not the fleet, though.” Jon replied, quickly turning the drill on one final time and yelling, “Because I hate boats.”

Sansa giggled loud enough for him to hear. “So do I.”

“But I’ve talked to your dad about The Night’s Watch.” Jon crouched to inspect his work when he was done. “I’ve never minded the cold.”

“Dad says The Night’s Watch is an honorable profession.” She stated in agreement, handing him a rag. “And is your foster brother Tormund is okay?”

Again, Jon looked at her in shock of her remembering his name.

“Um, he’s…well, _he’s Tormund_. He’s about to age out of the system and Davos said he could stay on at the house, but we both know he won’t.” He stood and wiped his hands with the rag. “Don’t get me wrong, Tormund’s a great guy, but he has a hard time submitting to anyone’s rules. Even someone as sensible as Davos— _especially_ someone as sensible as Davos.” Jon chuckled wearily. “The three of us get along fine, but Tormund just by nature seems to get into a lot of trouble. It’s hard for Davos sometimes with the wild ones because legally he can only take in boys, and before he became a foster parent his only child was his own daughter Shireen—and by all accounts she was the sweetest, kindest girl who ever lived.”

Sansa went along the edge of the work table, touching the nozzle that she’d used to paint the fender that morning with Jon standing behind her and instructing her the whole time. “She had greyscale, didn’t she?”

“Um, yeah. Yeah, she did.” He cocked his head at her from across the table. “How do you know all this?”

“Just because _we_ don’t talk to each other, that doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about your life. You talk to virtually everyone else in my family, and sometimes I hear things.” She moved quickly to amend her statement at seeing his fallen face. “They’re not talking about you behind your back, mind you. They mention you because you’re a part of their lives, Jon. And they care about you.”

“Huh.” He uttered, accepting her explanation.

She lowered her eyes, beginning carefully. “I know you talked to Dad to see what chance Davos had about maybe suing that woman—Dr. Melisandre.”

“Davos doesn’t know that I asked.” Jon sighed deeply in defeat. “I’m glad he doesn’t because your dad said the chances that the suit could even be brought to court were practically non-existent. But I wanted to ask anyway.” He looked at her sadly. “The anniversary of Shireen’s death is coming up in a couple months, and Davos is inconsolable on that day. Even with it being years and years since it happened, it’s almost as if she’d died only hours before.”

Sansa’s eyes narrowed. “What did the doctor do wrong?”

“Shireen _did_ have greyscale.” Jon confirmed, gathering up the tools. “But it wasn’t what killed her technically. For Shireen, it was a chronic condition, not a terminal one. She was living with it, although it was always giving her trouble and keeping her from having a normal life.” He paused to accept a few tools Sansa handed him. “Then one time, she spent several weeks in the hospital and became miserable that she couldn’t be a healthy girl who did all the things other girls do. Davos hated to see her like that, so he started researching other treatment methods and came across Melisandre. She promised that Shireen could be ‘cleansed’ of the entire syndrome using a medicine called R’hllor that was only legal in Essos.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going.” Sansa grimaced.

“Yeah.” Jon confirmed darkly. “Davos paid nearly every cent he had for him, Shireen and the doctor to travel to Asshai to have the treatment be administered. All I know is something went very wrong and the medicine basically burnt Shireen up from the inside.” His chin dropped to his chest. “She began screaming horribly in pain, but Melisandre keep giving her the drug, saying it would work. And then Shireen stopped screaming, but it was only because……..Davos can’t ever finish telling me the story.” Jon’s eyes fell shut as he tossed the rag away. “Your dad said because they traveled out of the kingdom for the treatment, Melisandre can’t be sued or arrested here in Westeros.”

“That’s terrible, Jon.”.

“For years Davos barely left the house, barely talked to anyone. The only thing that pulled him out of it was that someone convinced him to take in a foster child, a teenager named Gendry who still comes to visit even though he’s in his twenties now.” Jon discreetly wipes his eyes as he goes back to the tools. “I thought after I lost Mom that I’d never let anyone try to be a parent to me. And I know he’s not, but I know I’m lucky to have him.”

“I don’t know him,” Sansa smiled gently. “but I’m willing to bet he feels the same way about you.”

“The past few years on the anniversary of Shireen’s death, he didn’t speak all day, just sat in his chair in his pajamas with a blanket around him and looked out the window. It was awful.” Jon admitted sadly. “That’s why I asked your dad for legal advice. I doubt Davos would have even wanted to bring a suit against the doctor and dredge up all that pain again, but if there’d been a chance he could have had some sort of justice, I had thought maybe on the anniversary I could’ve told him that a lawyer said he at least had the option—and then he wouldn’t feel so hopeless.”

“That was nice of you, Jon.” Sansa smiled sincerely, then turned to look at the finished car and sighed in relief. “So was this.”

“Yeah.” He came to stand beside her. “Turned out good.”

“Well.”

“What?” He looked at her, confusion on his face.

She doubled over with laughter. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it. It’s an inside joke with me and my dad, something we do to everyone else in the family……...the car turned out _well_.”

He laughed too. “You’re going to be tutoring me in algebra, _not grammar_.” He nudged her arm. “If I say, ‘ _you did good, Sansa_.’ is that correct?”

“You know it _isn’t_.” She lightly slapped his shoulder, still laughing when he clutched his chest in mock hurt. “But thank you, even though all I really did was hold lights for you and hand you your tools.”

“Saved time that we needed saved.” He affirmed, proudly appreciating the car. “And now it’s done.”

She turned to him with an evil wink. “And now the _really_ hard work begins.”

 

 

“Algebra is evil.” Jon groaned in frustration, throwing his pencil down onto the garage’s work table.

“It’s not evil.” Sansa stated from across the garage, sitting on a tool cabinet with her legs dangling off. She then pensively cocked her head to the side. “Okay, it is _slightly_ evil.” She paused when he started chuckling at her and pointed to him. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t learn it. Or that you _can’t_ learn it.”

“Alright, fine.”

“If you get hung up,” She reminded. “just remember the mnemonic devices I taught you.”

“Yeah,” His eyes narrowed. “why didn’t the teachers teach me those?”

She smirked, jumping off the cabinet. “They probably _did_ and you just don’t listen to _them.”_

“Hmm, could be it.” He smirked back wickedly.

“Jon?” She began nervously, touching along the edge of the work table. “We’ve been meeting for weeks, and…….why do you want us to do it here at the garage? I mean I know Robb and Arya would probably tease you endlessly since _I’m_ the one tutoring you—“

“What?” Jon shook his head immediately. “No, Sansa. I’m not embarrassed that it’s you.”

“Then are you embarrassed about your failing grade?” She inquired, full of concern. “Jon, you don’t need to be.”

“No, that’s not it either.” He shook his head again. “And if Robb or Arya ever tried to tease me about my grade _or_ about you, I’d tell them to go fuck themselves.”

“Then?”

He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t want anyone in your family to know that I asked one of you for help.”

“What?” Her voice rose by just the slightest degree in disbelief. “Why?”

He looked her, slightly uncomfortable and shrugged. “Because you guys are always offering.”

“Well, that’s not stupid at all.” She rolled her eyes.

He shut his book harshly at her admonishment. “ _Sansa_.”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s stupid.” She told him firmly, coming around to his side of the table. “Jon, we’re always offering to help because we care about you. And even though we’re always being reminded through your actions that you can take care of yourself, we _might_ have things that you _might_ need and that we’re _always_ willing to give you.”

“I felt comfortable doing it with you because you needed my help _first_.” He nodded to himself, turning away from her to gather up his things. “That way it’s balanced.”

“Okay, two points I feel compelled to make.” Sansa turned him back around and raised two fingers to tick off her points. “First point: everyone needs help at some time or another, so if you really feel you have to wait until someone needs _your_ help before you ask for _theirs_ —then your ledger could probably always be balanced.” She stood herself firmly in front of him. “But the second point: If you care about each other, as you _claim_ to care about my family and as I _know_ my family cares about you—then why would you need a ledger at all?”

“I just….” He stuttered with awkwardness. “it’s easier for you, they’re your family.”

Sansa’s lip quirked up slightly. “Maybe if you accepted the help we offer, you could start to let us in and we could be _your_ family.” She placed a light hand on his shoulder. “Then we wouldn’t have to _offer_ , and you wouldn’t have to _ask_.”

 

 

“How’d you do on your test?” Sansa asked climbing up the steps with him after she let him through the front door of the Stark house.

“Okay.” He answered, following after her. “That FOIL thing really worked.” He stood in front of her when they reached the second floor where all the children’s bedrooms resided. “I mean, every time I solve an equation now I still have to mumble to myself _‘First Outside Inside Last’_ , but it must be doing the trick because………” Jon flourished a sheet of paper out of his bag and held it in front of his chest for her to see.

Sansa’s eyes widened in awe. “B minus! Oh, my gods, Jon.” She shouted happily, hugging him lightly.

He pulled her in for a deeper hug. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure the teacher thinks I cheated,” he laughed. “but I didn’t.”

She patted his back. “Well, I think my job is done.”

“Actually,” he pulled back with a sheepish look on his face. “our next section is on something called derivatives and just looking ahead at that part of the book made me want to throw up, so I was hoping we could keep meeting.” He looked at her through lowered lashes. “I mean, it wouldn’t be to pay me back for Robb’s car or because you need help in exchange. You see, I’m actually just outright asking for help this time.”

“I’m happy to help if you’re doing well.” Sansa smiled softly before chewing the side of her lip. “And not to go against my whole speech of things not needing to be tit-for-tat—but it turns out there _is_ a way you could help me at the same time.”

“Tell me.”

“Robb has hockey practice on Tuesday and Thursdays at 6am, so I usually have to take the bus on those mornings.” She hopped up and down on the balls of her feet. “And once you start riding in cars to and from school, going back to the bus feels like a Pentoshi tragedy.”

“Try driving,” he chuckled. “you’ll want to gouge your eyes out before ever taking the bus again.”

“The library opens an hour before school.” She informed hopefully. “If you drove me to school on those days we could study there in the morning instead of in the evening at the garage. And I wouldn’t have to take the bus.”

“And you’ll help me through the derivative section?”

“I’ll help you all the way through _to trigonometry_ even if you _don’t_ drive me. But if you do?” She chuckled lightly, “You’ll be a hero saving a maiden from the Pentoshi Tragedy of the Morning Bus.”

“I’ll never take trigonometry,” he chuckled back and held out his hand. “but…..” he paused until she shook it. “…..deal.”

Their handshake broke apart when they heard the door crash open and two loud voices talk over each other as they clambered up the stars.

“Jon!!” Robb slapped him on the back when he saw him in the hall. “Hey man, hope we didn’t leave you by yourself for long!”

Jon winced internally at Robb saying ‘ _by yourself’_ as if just because _they_ weren’t there, nobody else worth Jon’s time was either. “Uh, no, pretty much just got here. Sansa let me in.”

Arya came barreling past Robb, slamming into Jon’s side. “Don’t know why we don’t just give you a key so that doesn’t have to happen.” She dropped her huge bag of equipment by her door, her hockey gear spilling over the width of the hall towards Sansa’s room.

“Gods, Arya. Could you not be such a damn slob?” Sansa groaned in frustration. “Other people live here too. Jeyne Poole was over the other day and tripped over all your stuff!”

“Good,” Arya snorted in return. “maybe next time she’ll fall and break her face open and it will be an improvement on how that snob looks now.”

Robb laughed at Arya’s gibe, but sobered slightly when Jon gave him a stern look.

“Fuck, Arya.” Sansa seethed through clenched teeth. “Just put your stuff in your closet.”

“My closet has my camping gear in it.” Arya shouted at her.

“Then just put it in your room at least.” Sansa gestured to Arya’s own door.

“Mom wants me to keep my room picked up!”

Sansa crossed her arms. “So, your argument is that Mom wants you to keep your room clean and therefore would rather have your shit spread all over the hallway?!!”

“If I don’t keep it in the hallway, I’ll forget it when I leave in the morning!” Arya screeched as if Sansa was being unreasonable.

“So, when you leave for hockey practice, you need reminding that you need your hockey stuff for _hockey practice_?” Sansa mocked. “That makes sense.”

Robb scoffed. “Gods, get off her damn back, Sans.”

Sansa pointed in anger to all of Arya’s gear scattered over the hallway. “All I’m asking her to do is not keep her stuff where it gets in everyone else’s way!” She then pointed to herself. “My stuff doesn’t get in everyone else’s way!”

“If you knew anything about sports, or camping, or _anything_ \--you’d know that your stuff doesn’t take up as much room as hers does!!” Robb yelled at her.

Sansa winked in ridicule. “Gee, Robb, you’re almost making as much sense as Arya.”

Arya glared at Sansa. “Just because your lace and flowers and dolls stay neatly folded in your room—“

Sansa cut her off and crossed her arms again. “I haven’t played with dolls since I was eight and you don’t fold them _or_ flowers.”

“Gods, why do you always have to be such a prissy little bitch?!!!” Arya screamed.

Jon’s face got red and he shook his head in frustration at Robb and Arya just before he saw Sansa stomp into her room and slam the door.

“Oh, my gods.” Arya groaned to the ceiling. “She’s worse than usual today.”

Robb chuckled, stepping over Arya’s equipment where it _still_ laid all over the floor. “Maybe some rich, pretty boy she had a crush on didn’t talk to her in the halls like she thought he was supposed to.”

Arya chuckled back, ridicule dripping in her voice. “ _Princess_ Sansa and her—“

“You know what? Stop! The both of you. Just stop!” Jon shouted finally.

Robb and Arya looked at him like he was an alien. Arya sneered. “What crawled up your bu—“

“No. Stop. I’m fucking sick of it. Neither one of you are selfish jerks to anyone else, so why do you think it’s okay with her?” Jon gestured angrily to her closed door. “Just because Sansa doesn’t act the same way you do, or like the exact same things as you …… it doesn’t give you the right to gang up on her!”

Robb put his hands up defensively, eyes wide. “We’re not—“

“Yes, you are.” Jon scoffed. “Bran and Rickon are still too young and the two of you flock together all the time, so that leaves Sansa somewhere in the middle all alone.” He pointed to himself. “And I’m no better, basically disregarding her ‘cause she’s not into sports or cars or spending twenty hours a day outside. Maybe Jeyne Poole is a snob, _but Sansa isn’t_ , so you shouldn’t treat her so badly.” He angrily stuffed his test paper back in his bag. “And even if she were a snob or a bitch, she’d still be _your sister_. But Sansa’s never actually _done anything_ to us, except give as good as she got when we’d all clash.”

“Jon, that’s not—“

“Everybody likes different things, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still have a lot in common if you’d only try!” Jon yelled at them, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I bet if you’d try then she would try too. And since you guys out-number her two to one, just be fucking _decent_ to your own godsdamn sister and make the first gesture!” He stormed down the steps and slammed the front door behind him.

 

 

Robb knocked on Sansa’s door, opening it carefully. “Hey, Sans.”

“Hi.” Sansa replied laying on her bed, not looking up from her book.

“I picked up my stuff.” Arya poked her head in as well. “I’ll try to keep it in my room from now on.”

“Really?” Sansa’s eyebrows quirked in surprise. “Thanks. But, I probably went off on you a little harder than I needed to.”

“Oh yeah, well I’ve _never_ done that before.” Arya snorted loudly, then looked down to her hands. “Hey, are you doing anything tomorrow morning?”

Sansa marked her place in her book and sat up. “I was gonna keep on doing the reading for my AP lit class.”

“On a Saturday morning?” Arya doubled over, chuckling. “Sans, I know you’re a nerd, but nobody studies on a Saturday morning.”

Sansa face screwed up, turning red. “Oh, I’m so sorry I don’t have eighty sports events to—“

“Sans,” Robb held up his hands in a placating manner. “Arya was just being Arya, she didn’t mean anything against you.”

Arya nodded in agreement and smiled apologetically. “We were actually hoping you would come tomorrow.”

“To your hockey thing?” Sansa’s eyes widened.

“Game.” Robb chuckled, good-naturedly correcting her. “And yeah. Last time you went was when Mom and Dad dragged you with them when you were ten.”

“Both Robb’s team and my team are in this tournament, so it’s a big deal.” Arya continued. “And it’d be nice if you were there. We could all get something to eat after.”

“Up at 7am to spend five hours in a freezing ice rink?” Sansa put her finger to her chin jokingly, pretending to ponder.

Robb laughed loudly. “Not the most enticing offer, we know. But we still wanted to make it.”

“Okay, I’ll come.” Sansa nodded and grinned. “I won’t even bring my book.”

Arya pointed at her and went back to her room, yelling across the hall. “Yeah, I see you with that book tomorrow and I’m throwing it out the car window, Sansa Stark!”

Robb pushed off Sansa’s door frame with a chuckle, leaving her alone again—but smiling widely.

 

 

“I’d heard an insane rumor you were here.” Jon’s voice pulled her from her thoughts as she looked down at the ice and he walked up the stands toward her.

She smiled at him and patted the spot next to her. “You shouldn’t listen to rumors, Jon. I’m clearly at home, asleep in my warm bed.”

“My mistake.” He laughed, sitting down.

They both sat side by side, listening to the clatter of the game for a while before she spoke.

“Jon?” She began hesitantly, blowing into her hands to warm them. “I saw the look on your face before I went into my room yesterday after Robb and Arya ragged on me. And last night for the first time _ever_ they invite me to come here?” She fidgeted and dropped her hands to her lap. “Pretty sure you might have had something to do with it.”

He quirked the side of his mouth up. “Maybe all I did was remind them that if you’re lucky to have someone in your life—you should show it once and a while.”

“It had to be _hockey_ , though?” She groaned teasingly. “It only took me three minutes of watching to realize I _hate_ hockey.”

He shrugged and grinned wickedly. “Even if you hate it, if you love the person who invited you enough…..you grit your teeth and go.”

“Arya said she go with me to the Queenscrown Museum two weeks from now.” Sansa chuckled. “By the pained look on her face when she agreed, I’m pretty sure she feels the same way.”

“Since it’s all so new, I could go to Queenscrown too.” He offered, smiling nervously. “It might be better if you wade in slowly with spending time together one-on-one.”

Her eyelids fluttered, looking at him gratefully, tenderly. “Yeah, I’d like that”

“This could be the dawning of a new era of peace in the Stark family.” Jon nudged her shoulder playfully. “Robb was happy you were here. And just a few minutes ago, he even floated the idea of bringing you on our summer camping trip.”

Sansa looked like she’d just swallowed poison. “Oh, no. Not _camping_.”

He reached behind her to rub her back. “It’s not that bad.”

She dropped her head into her hands. “It _is_ that bad.”

“But if they invite you?” Jon prompted hopefully.

“Did you tell Robb it’d be okay if I came along?” Sansa asked, chewing on her lip.

Jon nodded.

She pursed her lips. “Can we at least camp at a campsite with showers so I can take one at night?”

“We don’t camp at sites,” he told her regretfully. “but we can pitch our tents next to a creek or a pond if you’d like.”

“So I can bathe in pond water? Ugh.” Sansa rolled her eyes in self-deprecation. “Oh my gods, I just said ‘ _Ugh_ ’ I really _am_ a prissy bitch.”

He shook his head honestly. “No. You’re not, Sans.”

Sansa’s cheeks hurt, her smile was so big. “You just called me Sans.”

“Uh, yeah.” Jon cleared his throat. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“My whole family calls me Sans, but you never have before.”

“Sorry.” He shrugged. “It just……slipped out.”

“It’s okay.” Sansa smiled, completely genuine. “I don’t mind.”

He smiled back proudly. “So, camping?”

“I would love to go.” She nodded, slapping his knee. “And only you will ever know that I don’t actually love _being there_.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He started quietly. “You can love virtually anything if you’re with the right person.”

Sansa laughed happily and gestured down to the rink. “Okay, can you tell me what the hell’s going on down there?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “I still find it hard to believe your siblings are Robb and Arya Stark and you don’t know the rules of hockey.”

“Well, I had always assumed Robb loved hockey ‘cause he’s good on skates, and Arya loved hockey ‘cause she wanted to smash people’s faces in with a stick,”

He interrupted with his loud chuckling. “You’re not entirely wrong.”

“But, I’ll admit I thought it was just one team trying to slap the puck into the net on one side, the other team on the other side. However, I’ve actually been paying attention this time and there seems to be a _tiny bit_ more to it than that.” She tapped his shoulder repeatedly, pleading. “I’m in Robb and Arya’s good graces at the moment and I don’t want to spoil that by being ignorant of the game, so help me pleeaassseee!”

He pointed to the ice and smiled. “Okay, there’s the red lines, the blue lines, and there’s ‘in the crease’…………………..”

 

 

Jon was happy, but apprehensive, when he opened the front door of his house and found that it was Sansa who had knocked.

“Sansa, hi. Um, it’s nice to see you,” He pulled the door shut behind him, whispering as he walked to her on the porch. “but it’s not really a good time.” He sadly looked inside the house through the front window. “Today is the day it happed, Sansa. When Davos lost his daughter. He’s barely moved or spoken all day.”

“I know.” Sansa gave him a small smile. “I think I can help with that. Will you let me try?” She continued sympathetically when she saw Jon’s uneasy face. “Jon, know I’ve never met him, but I hope you know I’d never want to do anything to hurt someone you care about.”

Jon took a moment, but nodded and reopened the door. “Okay.”

“Davos?” Jon called slowly, ushering Sansa through the entry and standing with her close to where Davos sat in his chair. “Hey, um, there’s someone here, and she’d like to see you.”

Davos turned his head from the window as if in a daze.

“Hi, Mr. Seaworth.” Sansa smiled softly.

“This is Sansa. She’s Robb’s sister,” Jon gestured to her. “—the one that’s been helping me get my grade up in algebra.”

Davos slowly got up from his chair, clearing his throat as his shaky voice hadn’t been used in a while. “Ahh, well thank you for that. Last time I talked to his teachers they were most impressed. Not only is he no longer failing, he might finish the class with a good grade.”

“I’m happy to do it.” Sansa grinned at Jon, then turned it to Davos. “I hope this won’t be putting you out, but I’m actually hoping _you_ could help _me_ now.”

Davos looked to his chair and his blanket with uncertainty. “Well, I’d be happy to try, young lady.”

“Jon said you were a sailor.” Sansa quirked her eyebrows in anticipation.

“Ah, yes.” Davos nodded. “Both for my career and for fun. Don’t do much of it now that I live so far inland.”

“Well then, I know you’ll think this is strange, seeing as I’ve spent my whole life living in a land-locked area,” Sansa smiled with humor. “but I’ve always wanted to learn to sail. There’s something about the freedom of it all that has always appealed to me.”

Davos smiled wider than Jon had seen in days. “Gods, yes. It’s one of the greatest feelings in the world.”

Sansa looked back to Jon. “After Jon told me you sail, I just couldn’t get it out of my mind.” She chuckled lowly. “I even went to the sleep last night thinking about it and I dreamt of sailboats, if you can believe it.”

“I can.” Davos laughed in return. “I’ve had many the same dreams, child.”

Sansa continued hopefully. “While there’s no open sea anywhere close, there is a pretty large lake about twenty miles from here.”

“Reed Lake,” Davos confirmed. “yes, I know it well.”

“Then you know they rent sailboats there.” Sansa prompted.

“Why, yes.”

“I’ve already called and rented one for the day.” She gestured to the basket hanging off her arm. “My mom makes a great kidney pie with peas and onions, and I wrapped it up with some lemoncakes I made.” She giddily rose to the balls of her feet. “There’s enough food for three. I was hoping that would be enough to entice you and Jon to go to Reed Lake with me and you could……maybe teach me to sail?”

Davos looked to Jon for confirmation, already a peaceful look growing on his face.

“She does make a mean lemoncake, Davos.” Jon laughed lightly. “And it’s a gorgeous day outside.”

“Out on the water with my boy and a lovely young lady?” Davos smiled so widely that all of his teeth showed, and he pat Jon on the back. “Yes, yes that sounds like a wonderful way to spend the day.” He walked away to get ready to leave, wagging his finger and yelling back good-naturedly. “But I’ll have you know I don’t tolerate laziness. If you’re going to be a sailor, you’re going to be a _proper_ sailor.”

Jon looked to Sansa in wonderment, gently taking her hand. “Thank you, Sansa.”

She squeezed it in return. “You’re welcome.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and I'd love it if you'd comment!!


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